Mirror Image
by YoshiPox
Summary: A big, long adventure story where the 1P characters and 2P characters interact and learn about each other. Mention of pairing fluff and cursing, also some suspense filled moments... So rated T.
1. Cupcakes and Veggie Burgers

Arthur took a deep breath and pulled the dirty sheet away. Coughing at the cloud of dust, he rubbed the grime of the slick surface. An old mirror, as tall as himself, stood reflecting his figure in the dim basement. Tapping the faded golden frame, he smiled softly. He remembered finding this particular mirror in an antique shop and ended up stuffing it down in his basement for lack of a better place to put it. Turning around, he continued clearing up a few things he had been going through, wondering if he should keep them.

"'Ello? Dear me where have I got to?" A voice that sounded much like his own startled him. Turning back, he saw a strawberry blonde with bright blue eyes with a ring of pink in them. He had multitude of freckles and a slightly confused look on his face. The stranger straightened his sea green bowtie and smoothed out his pink sweater vest, a smile taking place of his frown.

"Eh?" Arthur narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"Hm? What's wrong there poppet?" Wandering over, the man leaned on Arthur's shoulder.

"Who are you exactly? How did you get here?"

"Oh, how rude of me! My name is Oliver, Oliver Kirkland. I'm not sure how I got here, you see I was just having a cup of tea and here I am." Oliver's smile widened as he held out a hand.

"Well, my name is Arthur Kirkland." Shaking Oliver's hand, Arthur rolled his eyes, "And you need to go home."

"Go home? I don't know where that is." Putting a finger to his chin, Oliver tilted his head, "Would you know perhaps, old chap?"

"I have no bleeding idea. Figure it out." Arthur was getting annoyed with the cheerful Oliver and he began to walk up the steps to the kitchen. He just needed a cup of earl grey to ease his nerves.

"You don't seem to be very happy, love." Oliver replied quietly, trailing him. Arthur ignored him and pushed the basement door open. Daylight flooded in, brightening the dark.

"Will you please leave me alone?" Arthur asked, Oliver's smile creeping him out.

"Would you like me to make you breakfast? I love to cook!"

"Uh, sure…" Oliver wrapped Arthur into a tight hug.

"Thank you! Now go sit down, poppet." Releasing Arthur, Oliver happily skipped over to a cabinet and retrieved a pan, as if he knew where everything was.

Arthur yawned, tapping the wooden table top with impatient fingers. He could hear Oliver frying something and humming to himself in a sing-song voice. 'This guy is weird… He looks like me, but… Hm, I wonder if it was that mirror.' The familiar click of the stove top alerted Arthur that Oliver must be done. 'I wonder if he cooks well.' Oliver walked through the swing door into the dining room, holding two plates of fried eggs and ham.

"Here you are, love. I hope you like it." Placing a plate in front of Arthur, Oliver sat next to him and handed him a fork.

"How did you make this?!" Arthur stared at the food in amazement, suddenly feeling hungry. The meat was well browned and juicy and the egg was soft and fluffy. Perfect.

"Do you like it?" Oliver asked, taking a small bite of his own ham. Arthur took a mouthful of egg and swallowed.

"It's amazing… You cook better than anyone I know." Oliver beamed, blushing lightly.

"Oh well… Th… Thank you." Nibbling on his food, Oliver gently leaned on Arthur's shoulder, "No one has ever said that before…" Arthur awkwardly shifted in his chair.

"You're welcome, I guess." Finishing off the food ravenously, Arthur stood and took his plate to the sink. Oliver followed, hugging Arthur from behind.

"You know… I like you, poppet." Arthur squirmed, pulling himself out of Oliver's arms.

"Uh, I like you too…" Frowning, Arthur scanned Oliver's expression. He was blushing again, one hand on his cheek.

"You're so sweet, dearie." Grinning, he looked up and met Arthur's gaze, "Do you know any good card games?" The question seemed so out of place.

"What about Go Fish?" Arthur suggested, thinking of Alfred, who loved the game.

"That sounds fantastic, I have a deck here." Reaching into his pocket, Oliver withdrew a pack of red-backed cards, "I love card games."

After a few rounds of Go Fish, the sun began to set and Oliver rubbed his eyes. Arthur stacked the cards up and slipped them into the carton.

"I'm quite tired." Oliver muttered, resting his head on the table.

"You can sleep on the couch, if you would like." Arthur offered, standing.

"Alright then, chap."

…

Someone knocked softly on Arthur's bedroom door. Rolling over he glanced over.

"Yes?" Oliver peeked in, wearing light pink pajamas.

"Mister Arthur? I was wondering… Since I don't like the dark…" Oliver pressed his index fingers together and glanced to the side, "Can I sleep with you?"

"I don't see why not…" Arthur sighed, sitting up and pulling the covers back. Oliver smiled, closed the door and quickly hopped into the bed. As he drew the covers up to his chin, Arthur lay back down. Oliver snuggled against Arthur's chest, clutching his shirt.

"You're warm…" He breathed, closing his eyes, "Good night, love."

"Good night." Arthur replied, patting Oliver's blonde head absentmindedly.

…

Arthur opened his eyes to find Oliver sleeping soundly in his arms. He was snoring softly and gently nudging his nose against Arthur. 'I have to admit, he is kind of cute.' Arthur thought to himself, running his fingers through Oliver's fluffy hair. 'Child-like even.'

"Mmm… Arthur…" Oliver whispered quietly, lightly leaning toward Arthur's touch.

"You awake?"

"Good morning, poppet…" Oliver yawned and wrapped his arms around Arthur's waist, blushing.

"Eh, good morning." Unhinging Oliver's arms, Arthur sat up and slid out of bed. Oliver followed, grabbing Arthur's hand and lacing their fingers together.

"What are we going to do today?"

"I have a meeting this morning." Arthur replied, retrieving his hand.

"Can I come?"

"I'm sorry but you can't." Oliver's face fell but, he replaced his smile after a moment.

"How long will you be gone?"

"A few hours in the most." Arthur cocked his head.

"Don't leave me alone!" Oliver said suddenly, clinging to Arthur's shirt.

"H… Hey! Calm down, I won't leave you alone!" Arthur rubbed Oliver's back soothingly, "Mint Bunny? Dear girl, do you mind keeping Ollie some company?" Oliver glanced up at the green winged bunny flitting about above his head. It nodded and landed on his head.

"Oooh… She's so soft… And pretty." Oliver carefully held Mint Bunny in his hands, stroking her fur.

"I'll be back in a little bit, okay. Take care of him Mint Bunny." Oliver waved to him, his normal smile returning.

…

"Oi, Ollie! I'm back! I brought a friend!" Oliver patted Mint Bunny's head and dashed to the door, wrapping his arms around Arthur.

"I missed you love!" Oliver grinned and turned to the person next to him, "'Ello, I'm Oliver!"

"Hi, dude. I'm Alfred." Alfred smiled and turned to Arthur, "He does look like you."

"I've got to put some things away so you two get to know each other." Arthur strode out of the room, leaving Oliver and Alfred alone.

"So, how do you know Arthur?" Oliver asked, his smile fading to a thin line.

"He's my big brother." Alfred answered sitting on the couch, pulling a burger out of his pocket.

"Oh. I see." Sitting next to Alfred, Oliver straightened his bowtie. 'He looks like Allan…'

"He said you popped up after he touched a mirror…" Alfred mumbled through a mouthful of beef.

"Do you like him too?" Oliver asked with a small frown. Alfred choked, holding a hand over his mouth.

"Me? Like him? Well, yeah, I do like him because he's my bro and all… Why?"

"Well, he's mine." Oliver flashed a smile, "So keep your hands off."

"What do you mean by that?" Swallowing the rest of his burger, Alfred cocked his head, suspicious.

"Well now, poppet… I mean he is mine. So don't you try to steal him away." Oliver smiled a bit wider, "Or we'll have a problem, yes?" Arthur returned just before Alfred could reply. When he sat down, Oliver instantly cuddled to him.

"Uh, Iggy, can I talk to you?" Alfred asked protectively.

"Hm? Why is that?" Arthur replied, petting Oliver's head. Oliver narrowed his eyes at Alfred, his smile twitching. Alfred arched an eyebrow, staring back. As Arthur followed Alfred's gaze, Oliver feigned an innocent look.

"What is the matter, dearie?" He asked sweetly.

"Come on Iggy, please?" Ignoring Oliver's frown, Alfred pulled Arthur to the kitchen.

"Don't be rude to him…" Arthur began.

"Listen to me dude! That guy is strange, like, really strange."

"What's wrong with him? He's sweet."

"Number one: You have never said that about anyone, which is weird in its own way. Number 2: Have you noticed how attached he is to you?" Arthur frowned.

"It is true he is a tad too clingy…" Oliver peeked in the door.

"I'm getting a little lonely out there." He smiled and tugged Arthur's sleeve, "Come sit with me."

"It'll be fine, Alfred. Look at him." Arthur said, putting a hand on Oliver's head, "He'll be nice." Turning to Oliver, he smiled, "Of course I'll sit with you."

"Yay!" Arthur opened the door and walked out. Before Oliver followed he smirked at Alfred.

"Maybe you should leave, dear. After all," Oliver giggled, "I want to spend time with my poppet."

"I'm not leaving." Alfred glared at him, "Leave my big brother alone."

"Aren't you precious?" Squeezing Alfred's cheek, Oliver's smile grew, "What makes you think I would listen to you?" Turning on his heel, Oliver swiftly left the kitchen. Plopping down next to Arthur, Oliver held his hand.

"… Hey Arthur. I've, uh, got to go…" Alfred seemed a little confused.

"Okay, I'll see you later." Arthur waved.

"Cheerio, dear." As soon as Alfred shut the door, Oliver looked at Arthur. "Do you want a cupcake, love?" He held a strawberry cupcake with pink icing and rainbow sprinkles, "I baked a batch while you were away."

"Oh, yes. It looks delicious." Arthur took a large bite and swallowed, "Very sweet, thank you."

"I'm glad you like it." Oliver grinned mischievously, waiting for Arthur to finish, "Doesn't taste a tad strange?"

…

"My, my, don't you look cute?" Oliver tied the bowtie securely around Arthur's neck, "Green really suits you…" Arthur only snored in reply, steadily breathing. "Hm, you did swallow a lot of sedative. No surprise you are sleeping so much, poppet." Tightening the leather straps wrapped around Arthur's wrists, biceps and ankles, Oliver sighed. He playfully twirled his hunting knife about with his fingers and then glanced back at his captive. "Such soft skin…" Climbing up onto the table, Oliver straddled Arthur's waist. He lowered the knife to Arthur's throat and lightly traced the tip along his vein. "Would be a shame to ruin such a pretty face." Smirking he withdrew, kissing the blade, "After all, I like you love. Wonder what you taste like though?" Leaning down, he softly pressed his lips to Arthur's neck. "Mmm, tasty…"

"Ugh… My head…" Arthur groaned, lolling his head to the side. He tried to move, tugging on his restraints. His eyes instantly snapped open when he failed to sit up. Bright green eyes met shiny blue.

"'Ello, love." A sadistic grin spread across Oliver's face, "Have a nice kip?" Struggling with the straps again Arthur stared up at him, confused.

"W… What the hell is going on? Why…?" Arthur's gaze caught a glimpse of the 6 inch knife and tensed, "What are you doing with _that_?"

"Oh you know…" Sliding a finger along the dull edge of the blade, Oliver turned it in his hands a few times.

"Untie me. Now." Arthur demanded, glaring at the other.

"Why? You will just leave me all alone again." Pinching Arthur's cheek, Oliver pressed the blade to Arthur's throat, "And we can't have that." Arthur's eyes widened, his body going limp.

"Ollie, let me go."

"Nonsense, you are staying right here with me." Licking his lips, Oliver poked Arthur's nose with the tip of the knife.

"I'm serious! Let me go!"

"Don't you love me?" Oliver frowned, cocking his head. Arthur pressed his lips into a hard line. "Don't you?" Oliver glared at him, a smile creeping across his face. "I will have you…" He raised the knife, wrapping his second hand around the hilt. "One way or another."

"Wait, hold on! What are you doing?!" Arthur desperately struggled with his bindings, hopelessly trapped. Oliver paused, adjusting his grip, "Please listen to me Ollie! Stop!" Oliver swung the knife, stabbing it into the wooden table, just to the left of Arthur's chest.

"I can't possibly kill you… No, no, no, I like you too much." Stroking Arthur's cheek, Oliver closed his eyes. Relief flooded over Arthur and he exhaled slowly, cautious.

"Why am I strapped down?" He asked, sweat beading on his brow.

"So you don't run away of course." Stretching out on top of Arthur, Oliver played with the green bowtie, "I wanted you all to myself."

"I can't feel my arms…" Arthur squirmed, flexing his fingers, "Maybe you could loosen these up a bit?"

"I don't think so…" Interlacing his fingers with Arthur's, Oliver smiled, "You can still move." He brushed their noses together, "Besides, I can feel your heartbeat better if the straps are tighter." Gently pressing his lips to Arthur's, Oliver subtly tugged the edge of Arthur's shirt up. As soon as his hand contacted Arthur's bare skin, Arthur jerked.

"The hell do you think you're doing?!" He shouted, yanking at his restraints.

"You are so slim… Where's all the meat?" Oliver wondered- as if the question was a normal one-pinching Arthur's stomach.

"What is wrong with you?! Don't touch me!"

"I think you need more sweets. Like me." Oliver poked his own stomach, "Or maybe like your plump little friend."

"Eh? Sounds like you want to eat me…?" Grinning wider, Oliver patted Arthur's head.

"Precisely poppet. The only problem is you're so skinny… Although…" Running his tongue over his teeth, Oliver nibbled on Arthur's neck, "Your skin is quite tender. Tempting, almost." The breath caught in Arthur's throat. His mouth hung open at a loss for words. 'A cannibal? Oliver is a cannibal?!' His mind shouted at him to scream, to kick and fight, but his body wasn't responding.

"H… How could you?" He finally managed to sputter, his green eyes filling with tears, "I… I don't want to be eaten!" Brushing a strand of hair back, Oliver kissed Arthur's forehead.

"Now, now. I won't eat you alive, love. You're much too precious for that." Yanking the knife out of the table, Oliver examined it for a moment, "I only want a taste."

"B… But… Ollie…" Sniffing, Arthur closed his eyes, a tear dripping off his face. Oliver carefully rolled Arthur's sleeve up, revealing the underside of his forearm.

"Be still, darling. It won't hurt, I promise." The sharp steel bit into Arthur's skin, causing him to flinch. Blood welled up from the shallow cut and Oliver licked his lips. He kissed the wound, lapping the blood up with his tongue. "Delicious, oh yes." Laying the knife down, Oliver squeezed Arthur's arm, producing more red. When he finished, he withdrew with a satisfied laugh, "You are quite the treat, aren't you?" He wiped away a tear from Arthur's face and carefully kissed him again. Lovingly stroking Arthur's hair, Oliver smiled warmly. "It's all over, sweetie."

"Please stop it Ollie… You're scaring me." Arthur's lip trembled and his body shook, "J… Just let me go."

"First, I'm going to need assurance you won't up and run off." Petting Arthur's cheek he continued, "I'm a very fast runner and it goes without saying what I'll do with you if I catch you." Picking up the knife, Oliver lifted it to his throat and pretended to slit it. "Get the picture, love?"

"I… I understand." Arthur gulped, looking away.

"Good then." Oliver hopped off the table, slipping the knife back into its hilt in his boot. As he loosened the leather straps, Arthur sighed. Rubbing his wrists, grateful to be able to move again, he shakily stood. Oliver cheerily grabbed his hand and led him upstairs to the kitchen. It was dark outside, making Arthur wonder how long he had been out.

"What time is it?" He glanced at the stove time, "8'o clock?! I was out for 5 hours!" Oliver just giggled, skipping about the room.

"Bedtime already? I'm not very tired at all…" Suddenly, the phone rang, startling Arthur half to death. He picked it up, muttering to himself.

"'Ello? Who is it?"

"Hi… Uh it's America." Alfred sounded a bit nervous, "Is Oliver still there?"

"Yes, he is… Why?" Arthur asked suspiciously, Oliver wandering over and leaning on his shoulder.

"Well, there's this guy at my house…" There was a loud crash and Alfred squeaked, "He's trying to murder me!" There was muffled shuffling as Alfred shouted in some unknown direction, "Dude! He's not here!"

"I'm coming right away! Hide alright?!" Hanging up, Arthur quickly sprinted to the door and slipped on his shoes.

"Where you going?" Oliver frowned, trailing him.

"Alfred's in trouble." Pulling on his coat, he turned to Oliver. "You should come too… He asked about you."

…

Arthur slammed on the brakes outside Alfred's house. He and Oliver rushed to the porch, but there was no door. It had been kicked in and had several dents in it. There was shouting and a loud thud.

"Back off, dude! I told you, he isn't here!" Alfred's voice shook. He was scared, which frightened Arthur a bit. Oliver seemed unaffected, kicking the splintered door with his foot.

"Tell me where he is then!" Oliver's head snapped up, his eyes wide.

"Allan?" He swiftly walked into the living room down the hall. Arthur followed, glancing around the corner.

"Ollie?" A teenager, not quite old enough to be an adult, turned around. He had deep brown hair and ruby red eyes. He was holding a bat with long nails sticking out of it. "Ollie! The hell did you go, dude?!" Dropping his weapon, the teen wrapped his arms around Oliver. "You bastard…"

"Fifty cents." Oliver mumbled through the hug.

"The hell does that mean?" Leaning back, the teen stared at Oliver.

"Now it's seventy-five." Oliver held out his hand, "Pay up."

"I'm not giving you shit."

"A dollar." Smiling, Oliver waved his hand, "Stop swearing Allan."

"Fine." Allan growled, pulling a leather wallet out of his pocket and retrieving a dollar, "Here."

"Thank you. Now I'll take the hug." Opening his arms, Allan hugged him again. "How did you get here, Al? I thought I was the only one."

"Naw, I woke up here. This guy," Pointing to Alfred, "Standing over me." Arthur hugged Alfred, whose glasses were broken.

"You okay Alfie?" He asked, rubbing his back.

"I… I'm fine, Iggs. He didn't hurt me." Oliver shook his head.

"Allan, we talked about this." He put a hand on his forehead, "Ask questions nicely."

"He wouldn't tell me where you were!" Allan stomped his foot.

"Listen to me young man! I don't want to hear it! Since you don't have a room to go to…" Oliver crossed his arms, "I'm banning you from Call of Duty for a week."

"What?! You can't do that!" Grabbing his bat from the floor, Allan took a swing at Oliver's head, who quickly ducked.

"Don't make me take the Xbox away~…" He trilled, grinning mischievously.

"Bastard." Allan retorted, clenching his teeth.

"Twenty-five cents."

"Graaaaaah! I'm not giving you any damn money!"

"Fifty… My I'm going to be rich soon." Allan slapped two quarters into Oliver's open hand.

"There! Jerk."

"Now, now don't you be rude." Oliver pinched Allan's cheek before striding over to Arthur, "Everything all right love?"

"Yes. Alfred's fine." Arthur assured him, helping Alfred up. "How do you know him?" Nodding at Allan, Arthur dusted Alfred's bomber jacket off.

"That's _my_ little brother, Allan." Oliver motioned for Allan to come over. "Please excuse him for being so awful." Allan rolled his eyes, putting an arm around Oliver's shoulders.

"Hi. You are?" Allan asked awkwardly, staring curiously at Arthur.

"My name is Arthur." The group went silent for a moment.

"You know… You two look a lot alike." Allan muttered toward Arthur and Oliver.

"Of course we do! Arthur is my twin!" Oliver pushed him back so he could give Arthur a hug.

"To be honest, you guys look alike too." Arthur replied, gently returning the hug, "Despite the hair and eyes." Alfred and Allan looked at each other.

"I guess you're right…" Alfred cautiously answered.

"Oh hell… That mirror…" Arthur tensed, "Don't tell me… It somehow affected you too?"

"What mirror?" Oliver wondered.

"The one in my basement." Glancing up at Allan, "It seems that it had widespread effects."

…

Arthur and Oliver sat on the same side of the booth, while Allan and Alfred sat on the other side. The waiter had just left with their orders: Fish and chips for Arthur, tea and cake for Oliver, a salad for Allan, and a hamburger and fries for Alfred. They were on their way to Paris, to check on France.

"I'm telling you, it's not a good idea to eat sweets in the morning." Arthur argued.

"I do it all the time, love, I'll be fine." Oliver playfully replied, straightening the green bowtie he had put on Arthur. Defeated, Arthur crossed his arms and sighed. Oliver wrapped an arm around him, laying his head on Arthur's shoulder. "Aw, don't be upset poppet." Allan glared at them, cursing under his breath.

"Hey, Iggy." Arthur turned to Alfred.

"What?" He asked, brushing Oliver away.

"I think this is yours." Sliding the cup of tea over to Arthur, he smiled.

"Thank you." Taking a sip, Arthur exhaled contently. Sliding the cup out of Arthur's open hand, Oliver took a drink too.

"Mmm, yummy."

"Ollie, stop it." Allan growled. Oliver just smiled, kissing Arthur's cheek softly.

"So, yeah, uhm… Who got what?" Alfred asked, trying to break the awkward atmosphere as their food arrived.

"Oooh cake…" Oliver snatched the plate, drooling a bit.

"This is mine." Arthur claimed his plate.

"Everyone have everything?" Alfred questioned, handing Allan his salad.

"Yup!" Oliver grinned cheerily, "Artie, can I borrow your fork?" Arthur sputtered on the tea he had retrieved.

"Eh, sure. I'll just get another one."

"No, no it's fine; we can use the same one." Alfred and Allan looked at each other.

"Actually, I don't need my fork, if you want it Iggs." Holding out the plastic utensil, Alfred arched an eyebrow. Arthur happily accepted and Oliver frowned.

"Ollie, I don't think Francois will be happy to hear you're cheating on him." Allan laughed, taking a mouthful of greens.

"I… I… He and I are not dating!" Blushing, Oliver pushed his index fingers together, "So it's not cheating."

"Iggy is there something we need to know about?" Alfred joined in, "Oooh I bet France'll be jealous!"

"Don't start with me, Alfie!" Arthur slid down in his seat a little as Oliver laced their fingers together under the table.

"Then why are you all red?"

"Shut up, Yankee."

"Come on Ollie, tell us…" Allan leaned on his elbows, "You think he's tasty don't you?"

"My, whatever do you mean love?" Confusion crossed Oliver's face.

"Nothing, nothing…" Allan smirked, putting an arm around Alfred, who laughed. Arthur glanced down nervously, remembering how Oliver had snapped the day before. 'I wonder if Allan knows…'

"So poppet? Do you love me?" Oliver asked, squeezing Arthur's hand.

"I… I guess… I don't know…" Arthur blushed, avoiding Oliver's eyes, worried he would upset him.

"Aww, thank you." Leaning his head on Arthur's shoulder, Oliver laughed. Alfred and Allan both snorted, rolling their eyes.

"You two are so alike, it's scary…" Arthur said, raising his eyebrows. Oliver nodded.

"We're both America aren't we?" Allan replied, popping a tomato slice into his mouth.

"We are?" Alfred asked, tilting his head.

"Yeah, right Ollie?" Oliver smiled.

"Don't forget Artie and I are both England."

"What?! You guys are the same person?!" Alfred exclaimed, his mouth hanging slightly open.

"… I didn't even know that." Arthur turned to Oliver, "I never mentioned being a country to you."

"Well, it was easy to guess, love. A mirror reflects who you are, doesn't it? Who else but me?" He put a hand on his chest, "You really didn't expect there to be another you?"

"I didn't think it was at all likely."

"Ah, but you've never used an enchanted looking glass?"

"No."

"Of course not. That's how things work here." With a slight yawn, Oliver glanced over at Allan. "Are you done eating, dear?"

"Yeah. Been done for a while now."

…

Oliver and Arthur left the America's at a hotel, promising to be back soon, and made their way to France's house.

"Bonjour? Pardon, I am a little busy, oui?" Francis ran a hand through his blonde hair as he answered the door.

"Aww! You're so cute!" Oliver instantly hugged him, snuggling into the bright blue fabric.

"Ohn?! Angleterre?!" Francis wiggled in Oliver's grip, "B… Bonjour mon amour, what are you doing?"

"Ollie, stop hugging the frog." Arthur grabbed the collar of Oliver's shirt and pulled him away, "He might end up doing something to you." Francis stared at him for a moment before rubbing his eyes.

"There is… Two of you?" Oliver laughed.

"Yup! Isn't my little Artie adorable?"

"I told you to stop calling me that!" Arthur stomped a foot and flung his nose in the air, "Humph. Oi, Froggy we want to know if you perhaps have another you here?"

"You don't mean the man who has been sleeping on my couch for the past few days?" Francis leaned lightly on the doorframe and sighed, "He won't move. He won't listen to me at all. All I hear are death threats and lamenting. It's very depressing."

"Sounds like Francois… May I come in?" Oliver asked, tilting his head slightly, a small smile on his face.

"Oui." Francis watched him closely, "So you are?"

"I'm Oliver. Oliver Kirkland." He answered as he wandered into the living room. Arthur followed rolling his eyes and Francis closed the door.

"I would suggest you not bother him…" Francis scratched his beard, curiously watching Oliver again.

"Oh Franny~! Guess who, love!" Oliver trilled, poking at the blonde hair sticking out from under the heavy down blanket on the couch, "Wake up~!" The man rolled over, snoring. He had long dirty blonde hair, a very prickly beard, and was wearing a dark grey button up. Oliver hopped on top of him and pulled his nose. With a growl, the man had flipped Oliver onto his back and leaned on top of him.

"I am going to slit your damn…!" Pausing in mid-sentence, the man's deep purple eyes widened, "… Oliver?"

"'Ello, Franny!" Giving a little wave, Oliver hugged him, "I missed you so much!"

"Don't call me Franny. My name is Francois. Now let go." Francois' voice had a dangerous tone to it and he shoved Oliver away. He sat up, glaring at the wall. Oliver wrapped his arms around the blonde, regardless of the protests, and kissed him on the cheek. Arthur gagged, putting a hand on Francis' shoulder to steady himself.

"Aww, Franny, don't be rude." Snuggling against Francois, Oliver giggled.

"If you don't let go, I will make you regret it." Putting a hand on the back of Oliver's head, Francois forced him into a hasty French kiss. When he released, Oliver turned bright red and quickly became quiet, playing with his fingers.

"That was really naughty, Francois…" He mumbled, scooting away.

"I could get naughtier, if you don't leave me alone." Francois smirked.

"No, no, no! We aren't going to do _that_!" Arthur swiftly pulled Oliver to his feet, "You idiot…"

"Well, well. Who are you, ohn?" Francois crossed his arms and leaned on the couch lazily, "Did Ollie dress you up like that?"

"I'm Arthur, bloody frog. And absolutely not, you git." Sitting down to the left of Francois, Arthur patted the spot next to him for Oliver.

"Humph." Francois rolled his eyes, "I was only teasing."

"Right, I'm sure you were." Arthur replied sarcastically, "How is he any different from you, frog?" He scoffed, directing his attention toward Francis.

"Mon dieu, aren't you nice?" Francis answered, "I care about my image, obviously." He smoothed out his long, shiny hair. Arthur stood and strode over.

"Ha, is that so? You dress like a girl, Frenchie." Francois and Oliver looked at each other and then back at the arguing nations.

"… What exactly is going on?" Francois asked first, confused.

"Ah, well, we are in some other dimension I think. Over there is you and me, if we were… I don't know, different?" Oliver tried to explain, and then shrugged.

Eventually, the arguing died down; Arthur explaining to the Frenchman what had happened before they remembered their guests. Both turned to see Francois and Oliver talking amiably about how their day has been.

"Alright." Arthur said with an authoritative tone, "Oliver, Francois, Francis; We need to get going if we are going to catch the plane to Germany." All three stared at him with questioning gazes. "Look, he lives the closest and I booked a flight."


	2. The Axis, Plus Some

**Hi! Sorry it took me like a year to update! School and life caught up to me all at once, and I shied away from the fandom a bit, but now I'm back! Thank you guys for sticking with me and for the inspiring updates. They really help. This chapter's a little short but enjoy it and I'm working on the next one now.**

Feliciano happily hummed to himself as he turned on the stove. This morning he was going to make Ludwig breakfast; no matter how hard it seemed.

"I need to be quiet." He told himself in a whisper, trying to be serious, as he fished around in the fridge for a package of bratwurst. "Ewwww." Sticking his tongue out with slight disgust, Feliciano opened the plastic bag.

"How does Mr. Germany even eat this stuff?" He asked no one in particular and plopped a pan a little too noisily over the flame. Back to the fridge, he gathered up a stick of butter and a few eggs.

"He likes cake too." A small smile grew on the excited nation's face, "We like cake." He withdrew a bowl from under the counter and began working on a recipe he had picked up a long time ago. German chocolate. After pouring the batter into a cake pan and sliding it into the oven, Feliciano realized he had forgotten to start the sausage. By now the pan was too hot, and, not sure what to do, he just turned down the heat and hoped the wurst wouldn't burn. Tossing them in, he watched them pop and fizzle a bit but that's what meat does right? So he waved it out of his mind.

Now was time for coffee. Ludwig would be up any minute, and liked his coffee hot and right out of the pot. Self-ground beans were a must, always the best, being fresh and tasteful. The grainy substance was carefully poured into the coffee maker, and then Feli remembered something.

"Oh, a filter…" He stared absently at the pile in the top of the coffee maker. "How do I get that out?" Pulling open a drawer, he grabbed a spoon and scooped most of the grounds back into the grinder, leaving a thin layer at the bottom. Taking out the glass pot and unplugging the device, he flipped it over and shook the rest out onto the floor. At this point he glanced over at the now charring sausage, emitting steam. Almost throwing the machine back onto the counter, he quickly clicked the burner off and pulled the pan off the stovetop. He scraped the half burnt wurst onto a plate and waved at the smoke around him. Tossing the pan into the sink, he hoped the fire alarm wouldn't go off.

Back to the coffee, he reassembled the machine and dug around in a cabinet for a filter. The salvaged beans went back into their proper place, water was added – once he had misplaced the water and got quite the scolding – and lastly, he pushed the little start button.

"Done." A loud beeping startled him suddenly, and it took a moment for him to realize it was only the oven signaling that the cake was done baking.

"Si, si, I know. Grazie." Oven mitts on hands, he withdrew the cake, happy that at least this part of breakfast came out right.

"Italy?" Feliciano turned around and smiled.

"Ciao Germany, surprise!" He put his hands on his hips in triumph, "I made-a breakfast!"

"Uh-huh, I see zhat. When could you cook?" The messy, curly haired blonde asked between a yawn.

"Since always! You look tired so go sit down and I'll bring you food!" Feliciano grabbed the man's hand and dragged him to the dining room table, "Un momento!"

As soon as he stepped into the kitchen, Feliciano blinked. Ludwig, with straight hair slicked back and fully dressed – as well as angry with the state of his kitchen – was standing in a rigid, arms crossed stance, waiting for him.

"Italy. We talked about this. You can't…"

"How did you get dressed so fast?" Feliciano interrupted, tilting his head and furrowing his brow, in a rather cute way, very confused.

"What do you mean? I always get up early." Ludwig replied, raising a brow himself.

"Then who's in the dining room?" The Italian paled slightly, suddenly worried.

Both glanced at the doorway and back at each other. With a slight nod, Ludwig marched through it, Feliciano tagging along. The man was still waiting at the table, and had been joined by a black haired, purple eyed other.

"So he cook us food now, does he?" Black hair asked, clearly interested in the topic.

"Ja, and is happy. This early, and happy." Blonde replied, shrugging.

"Creepy. He poison us, hai." Black hair was first to notice the company. He blinked vacantly and then shrugged, "No, I will not believe it. He's not Feli."

"Huh." Blonde turned in his chair and surveyed the duo, "What's going on? Is this a prank or what?"

Ludwig ran a hand through his hair and frowned, obviously concerned. He was not sure how to answer. This was not normal. Where was Kiku? And who would dress up like him? Why were there two random men in his dining room? Why was Feliciano sneaking upstairs? Wait. Feliciano is standing to his right. Technically behind him but…

"Hallo, I see you over there! Who are you? How many are there?!" He suddenly shouted at the stairs, causing all around him to flinch. "What is this shiza…?" This was too much. His blood pressure was bad enough with the kitchen incident.

"Whoa, buddy, calm down." Blonde laughed nervously, "Don't burst an artery, ja?" He leaned back in his chair, trying to get comfortable, "So, I'm Lutz. And that guy is Sakura Blossom of the Flowing Ocean."

"I will Sakura Blossom kamikaze everything you hold dear." Black hair replied, "I'm Kai."

"Und how many are there." Ludwig asked, lowering his voice to normal. He might as well try to be pleasant.

"Not a question I am familiar with." Kai answered slowly.

Feliciano popped his head out from behind his friend to see what was going on. No one seemed to be fighting. It must be safe, right? He didn't like coming out in the open.

"Luuuuuuudwig, can I come out now, pier favore?" He whined, wanting to be absolutely certain it was okay.

"Ja, ja, whatever you want Feli." Ludwig waved a hand at him, "Right, I mean how many of you are there? Drei? Veir?"

"To my knowledge, zwei?" Lutz watched Feliciano for a few moments before continuing, "Is he like, your friend? 'Cause he certainly isn't any Feli I know."

"It's Feliciano." The Italian cheerily chimed in, stepping over curiously, "And you have a funny name too. Lutz is short for Ludwig right? I heard Preussen call Germany that once." How interesting. The more Feliciano looked at the man, the more like Ludwig he looked.

"Nein, not Ludwig. Lutz." Lutz replied, narrowing his eyes in disappointment, "Und Preussen you say? He doesn't talk much, especially not to Feli." A sudden shout erupted from upstairs, startling the already tense group.

"Doitsu-san! Italia-kun!" Kiku appeared at the staircase in a rare fit of extreme emotional distress, "My room. I woke up and it messy. Privacy breached. Who was it?" He was hugging a body pillow and was still in his pajamas, contributing to the overall alarming state he was in.

"And someone is really roud. Throwing stuff. Shouting." He suddenly became aware that there was an audience of look-alikes, and shuddered. He wasn't dressed properly, and was conducting himself horribly in the presence of _guests_. He went silent and slowly began backing back down the hallway to avoid the confused stares.

"Ah, Japan!" Ludwig called after him, briskly climbing the steps, "I need your help with somezing. Don't disappear, bitte."

Feliciano stood awkwardly by the doorframe, not entirely sure what he should do. Ludwig left him with these strangers. Well one of them looked friendly. He decided to sit by the blonde.

"So um, here we are. Sitting. Si. Like we do in chairs." He stammered, wishing his brother was awake to protect him from social impairment.

"What vas that about?" Lutz asked slowly, turning to make eye contact with Feliciano, who flinched.

"Oh, well, Japan doesn't like people in his room. It's his space and stuff, and please don't hurt me, I don't wanna get yelled at either, I'm sorry." Nervousness always got the better of him, no matter how hard he tried to act cool. 'The man is like Germany.' He told himself. 'He's like a nice, laid back Germany.' To this, he smiled, feeling a little calmer.

"I see." Kai, who was in the middle of reading a manga and munching on a package of pocky, shrugged, "My bad. I assumed he wouldn't mind."

A loud crash got everyone's attention. More shouting. Angry Italian shouting. Feliciano perked up, listening to a very profanity littered word battle in his beloved national language. Roma must have been woken up to early.

"German bastard! The hell with you! Shut up-a already!" A moment of silence, followed by a girly scream, "Don't-a chase me! Go away! Feliciano!" Lovino dashed down the stairs at his usual inhuman speed, being closely followed by a vicious looking, obviously ticked brown haired man. Ludwig and Kiku were a ways behind and seemed amused at the most.

"I'll-a teach you to throw things! I don't-a care if you're-a mad; I'm not taking any shit today!" Lovino zipped into the dining room and dove under the table, with such precision it could be considered an art. His aggressor however stopped in the doorway with a look of disgust plastered on his face.

"How the hell did you two get down here before-a me?" Placing his hands on his hips, he locked eyes with Feliciano, "And who is that?"

"Guten Morgen, Feli." Lutz answered casually, "Rather early for you, ja?"

"Hai Italia-san. It is almost 7 o'clock." Kai chimed in smugly.

"So far we have drei." Ludwig entered with Kiku, explaining the situation, "I have no idea vat is going on." That was hard to admit, but Kiku's spell earlier made it easier.

"I have explaination." Kiku raised his voice so everyone could hear, "Classic story of alternate universe, or AU. If my idea is correct, he is you," he nodded toward Lutz; pointing was too rude, "I would be him," now at Kai, "The last two would be Italia-kun… Which leaves Lovino-kun and Prussia-kun." His voice was matter-of-fact. He failed to mention that he had received a phone call that morning – the reason he had woken up – from Arthur, explaining the whole situation, or that he was secretly fascinated with the whole 'alternate personality' deal.

"Oh." Everyone mouthed in sync, looking around at each other.

"What do we do zen?" Ludwig wondered, a little jealous that the answer was so easy to figure out, "They can't just stay in my house."

"Igirisu-kun is coming over to fix it. At reast, he says he will. For now, he want everyone to spend time with their double."


End file.
